


Quicksand

by canistakahari



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, M/M, Sleep Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-04
Updated: 2012-10-04
Packaged: 2017-11-15 14:52:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/528471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canistakahari/pseuds/canistakahari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bones wants Jim to keep him awake. Jim doesn't quite succeed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quicksand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



“Bones.”  
  
“Mm.”  
  
“ _Bones_.”  
  
Jim can feel it when Leonard startles properly awake, jerking beside Jim and righting his listing head with almost comical determination. His eyelids are drooping, lashes flickering against his cheeks, and when he goes to say something no doubt witty and acerbic and dripping with all varieties of irritable sarcasm he just ends up stifling a massive yawn instead, jaw cracking audibly. Jim gives him a crooked smile and reaches forward to run his fingers through his hair.   
  
“You said to keep you awake.”  
  
“I know what I said,” rasps Leonard in a voice layered with exhaustion. Over the course of the evening he’s been sagging steadily and now he’s pressed up heavily against Jim’s side, a warm, sleepy weight that Jim wraps an arm around and cuddles unrepentantly. He doesn’t always get the chance to be this touchy-feely with Leonard, and damn straight he’s going to take advantage of the fact that Leonard’s face is pressed against the juncture between Jim’s neck and his shoulder and he’s  _not_  pulling away.   
  
Leonard makes a soft, pleased noise and huffs faintly, pulling his legs up under him on the couch until he’s curled around Jim’s shoulder, dark head tucked firmly under his chin.   
  
“Bones,” says Jim after a long moment spent listening to Leonard’s breathing settle into the unmistakable inhale-exhale of sleep. He pokes him in the stomach.   
  
“Goddammit,” whines Leonard, flinching and clumsily slapping Jim’s hand away when he continues to prod him gently. “You’re worse than a mosquito. Okay— _okay_! I’m awake, Jim. Poke me again and you won’t get that finger back.”  
  
“Hey, I’m just following orders,” protests Jim mildly. “You’re the genius trying to reset your sleep schedule. I better be coming out of this with a medal.”  
  
“Made of chocolate,” mumbles Leonard, already wilting again. He’s—well— _adorable_  like this. There’s no other word to describe it that would be appropriate. While his intrepid efforts to keep his eyes open are indeed impressive, his eyelids still keep resolutely sliding shut for individual periods of time that grow progressively longer before eventually popping open again in shock to reveal muzzy hazel eyes wide with endearing confusion.   
  
After one such instance that lasts well past the five minutes mark, Jim has resigned himself to letting Leonard sleep because it’s making him feel all kinds of guilty to keep dragging him out of sleep when he’s so clearly exhausted, but then Leonard jerks  _himself_  awake, sitting up so abruptly his skull crashes into Jim’s chin.   
  
“Motherfuckin’  _ow_ ,” groans Jim, clutching his jaw. “Minus three points for maiming the judge.”  
  
“What?” demands Bones, disorientated and crazy-eyed. He blinks owlishly, eyes almost watering with the energy required for such an act, and then moans and drops his head into his hands.  
  
And then proceeds not to move.  
  
“Bones?” says Jim, frowning.   
  
A muffled snore is Leonard’s only response.  
  
Jim chuckles, manhandling Leonard back against his chest and arranging their bodies for maximum comfort. He contentedly ignores Leonard’s half-asleep grumbling as he wraps his arms around the warm, solid weight of his body.   
  
“We’ll try again tomorrow,” he murmurs against Leonard’s hair, smoothing back his bangs and then pressing his lips to his forehead.


End file.
